


Mating Flight

by Tonko



Series: Grand Line Weyr [2]
Category: Dragonriders of Pern - Anne McCaffrey, One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Pern
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:18:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tonko/pseuds/Tonko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of a mating flight, Smoker finds that letting go might actually give him something else to hold onto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mating Flight

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by the awesome [printfogey](http://archiveofourown.org/users/printfogey/profile). Any remaining errors are all mine.

_Aaah, I am done,_ Seigith tucked his wings in and dropped from the chase, warmed through from the exertion and content with the exercise. There had been little hope of a win for him after the eventful Threadfall the previous day and the terrible winds that had caused many injuries, but Seigith had felt the urge to rise despite his fatigue, and was thoroughly satisfied now. He was well and truly exhausted, but glad for having had the chase.

Smoker sighed heavily with disappointment at Seigith's retirement from the mating flight. He was the one that the heat still raced through, instead of ebbing easily as it did for Seigith, and the leftover tension from yesterday's bad 'Fall made it worse. He felt tied in knots, even now, and pulled even tighter by the unspent lust of Seigith's race.

He pulled himself together and offered the bronze the visualization needed to return home. He worked his way free of the press of bodies as Seigith turned in a slow glide over the Weyr and set himself to splash down in the center of the lake. The coolness of the water felt delicious to the bronze, but it barely touched Smoker's lust-fogged mind. He pushed both hands up over his face and back through his hair as he exited the inner room.

It wasn't like he'd never felt the aftermath of a bad 'Fall before. It wasn't like he hadn’t worked through these Thread-cursed mating flight comedowns uncountable times before. As he had too many times in his life, he wished angrily that his human body could let go of lust as easily as a dragon's.

 _Don't be long,_ he growled as he stepped through the door, then stopped short when Seigith's mind turned thoughtful, and the dragon finally sent a calm, wordless refusal in reply.

 _I think I will swim a while,_ he said. _And it is long past time for you to put yourself at ease as well, my brave beloved._

Seigith's voice was firm and the bronze felt... concerned, but determined. A strange sort of hungry dread clenched Smoker's insides. The struggle with desire to keep walking and do what every other rider did—pick a partner and succumb to post-flight lust—was stronger than ever tonight, and resisting it far more agonizing. It was always a trial, and ultimately unsatisfying, to deal with his state alone, but Seigith had never done this, never meddled in Smoker's choice not to take a bedmate after a lost flight.

Well, the dragon hadn't had the chance before. Willing to enable, if not approve of, their weyrleader's self-deprivation, either Hina or Tashigi had always been present to remove him before, presenting the facade to the other riders that everything was as normal. But Tashigi was away this evening, liaison to Grand Line Hold for a minor event in her capacity as weyrleader's wingsecond, and Hina was with Orith as she laid her latest clutch. Smoker had been expecting Seigith to arrive and rescue him from the mating weyr before the situation lingered. The effort to maintain the illusion would be dealt a blow, but it wasn't unheard for riders to keep to themselves on rare occasions, and right now Smoker had no other option.

But Seigith had other plans, and was leaving him high and dry, as it were. _Get up here!_ Smoker growled, the pleading that threaded through his command something that he lacked the ability to control right now. He wanted, nearly desperately, to leave this place. He couldn't be left here to watch as the others leaving the race found bedmates; it would be a rotten ordeal, and worse, it would be even more blatantly clear to those here that he was avoiding taking someone to his bed.

Refusing anyone who might offer, and there was no lack of those, would be equally as hard to bear.

 _Then don't refuse. Let yourself be caught,_ Seigith said, gentle, but utterly firm. _Your duty is your core, beloved, and it is so strong, but it will break you if you keep yourself so tightly knotted up. My loss needn't be yours—and I don't feel it as you do. My chase was enough. Now let someone give you a little ease this time._

 _I don't need someone else, I have you!_ Smoker returned, but the indignant protest was almost a mental whine. What lust did to him... Smoker couldn’t let it. So much loss of control. He had to manage himself, so he could manage this Weyr.

 _I can't do this for you,_ Seigith said, and the love and encouragement embraced Smoker so completely that his harsh breathing hitched loudly.

The dragon's plan echoed briefly against Smoker's awareness, and he shook his head wordlessly at the shape of it, resisting what he now knew the bronze was going to say. And, indeed: _Merath says his rider is outside,_ the dragon said significantly, and Smoker took a step without even thinking, the shape of the young brown's rider slouched and grinning in his mind's eye. Seigith's approval at that, and the lust thrashing inside him, pushed him onward and forward, until he was past the unused dragon couch and standing on the ledge.

And Ace was there, standing out against everything as though he was the one sharp figure among a blur of people. Damned hat, bare chest, messy hair, and Smoker looked right at him. The lust crashed over him in another heavy, pounding wave at the sight, and Smoker _wanted_ —but he had long years of practice at this, and he walled it off with an effort, maintaining his glowering frown at the whole situation.

This was the first mating flight Ace had been permitted to attend, following his graduation to fully ranked rider. And it figured he would do this, appear for this loss, rubbing it in and flaunting himself when Smoker was weakest.

And Seigith thought this brat was what he _needed_ , did he? This impudent, smirking constant in his life, the one spark that could always goad him to reaction...

But there was no smirk just now. Ace's face was not what Smoker would have expected for this occasion. He looked almost solemn. Anticipating, but waiting and watching, and when Smoker met his eyes his mouth quirked in something almost like nerves. But he stared back steadily, and tilted his head just slightly, like a question. He actually _asked_.

Tashigi and Hina weren't here to allow him to pretend, Seigith didn't want him to anymore. And none of the riders would know the difference.

Only Smoker would, because if he went with Ace, he had a growing certainty he wouldn't be able to send him away. But Seigith wasn't here, either way, so he stalked across the ledge towards Ace as though he was impatient. "Move it, Portgas," he snapped.

Ace smiled instantly in return, a grin widening across his freckled face, and suddenly, yes, _there_ was that smirk. Predictable.

"Why, Captain, I'm honoured," Ace laughed slowly. Turning to the space behind the crowd, Ace looked up as Merath came down to a light landing. He looked over his shoulder at Smoker before mounting up, then leaning down to reach for Smoker's arm.

There was a fraction of a moment's pause after Smoker slapped his arm into Ace's hand and gripped his wrist. Ace wasn't smiling anymore, and Smoker caught a glimpse of slight concern there before Ace pulled Smoker up behind him. He settled in place, and swallowed. The pressure against his hungry erection was miles beyond pleasurable, and ridiculously so, simply because he was shoved up against another person, and not his own too-familiar hand.

Naked shoulders spread out before him, naked back, he wanted to grab, touch, bite and taste, his body was near-desperate for it, and he clenched his teeth and his fists and fixed his eyes on the ridiculous red bead necklace Ace always wore. Seigith's chiding disapproval at that restraint jabbed at Smoker’s mind.

When they landed, he looked up to realize they weren't at Ace's weyr, where Smoker had been sure Ace was going to take his prize, but at Smoker's. He briefly cursed himself for not noticing well before, then dismounted. His boots hit the stone with a jarring thud, and he took a step away. No second thud of dismount sounded behind him, and he turned, seeing Ace still mounted up, one hand on his hat and staring down at Smoker with an expression that couldn't seem to decide to be worried or nonchalant.

"Alright, well, maybe when you do want to, Captain," Ace's grin didn't quite reach his eyes, and a tinge of disappointed guilt seemed to be hanging about him.

"What?" Smoker growled, and the lurch in his gut was fierce and painful, the protesting throb in his cock just as strong.

"Thought I'd try my luck, but I think it's the wrong kind of luck, here." He shrugged awkwardly, the first time Smoker had ever seen that kind of uncertainty in him, and then his expression did go serious. "I don't know what you think of me, Captain, but I prefer my partners fully willing."

Smoker spent a long moment staring in astonishment, caught out by Ace’s understanding and unexpected compassion.

And as it faded, he found he was touched, somewhere in all the rushing emotion and physical reaction, that Ace had gleaned this understanding at all. Touched, and embarrassed. Damn the brat for seeing through him. The surge of frustration at Ace’s intention to leave him was hot and abrupt--at himself, at Ace--and Seigith's frustration was right on its heels.

And, of course, there was easily-kindled contrariness-- _is that all,_ Seigith murmured, but Smoker pointedly ignored him--and Smoker decided; Ace was not going to leave.

"Get your ass into bed, Portgas," he barked. Ace's gaze on him was definitely unconvinced, concern still flickering just at the edges of him, and it was unsettling that Ace was really that bothered, being that _careful_. Smoker took a breath and added, finding it suddenly more difficult to keep their eyes locked, "I chose you, remember?"

And he had; there had been no other option for him on that ledge.

 _I would not have left you to just anyone,_ Seigith said. _I would have come, if he had not been there._

 _You always were too fond of him,_ Smoker returned, not acknowledging the dragon's actual meaning.

 _You continue to exclude yourself from that statement,_ Seigith chuckled. _Such a waste of energy._ Smoker didn't dignify that with a reply at all.

He had better things to do.

A moment more of considering, narrowed eyes, and then Ace slid down from Merath in a smooth motion, his landing momentum carrying him forward.

The wind of Merath's departure blew over them as Smoker grabbed for Ace's bare sides, spreading his fingers over warm skin, tightening his grip over lean, built muscle and pulling him in. The feel of Ace's skin was glorious; Smoker felt like every bit of him was wide open to any sensation, so hungry for it, he wanted to touch him everywhere, the smooth skin on his stomach, the soft places on his neck, feel the calluses on his hands from flight training.

Ace latched both hands around Smoker's belt, dragging them tight together. Smoker leaned forward to encounter what he was sure was the hottest mouth he'd ever tasted in a hungry meeting of lips and tongue. Ace held them tight against each other, grinding slowly and roughly against Smoker's erection.

And it was wonderful. Independent, unpredictable pressure, the attentions of another all on him, and for him and with him. Together. Seigith had been right; a dragon's love was bedrock, it was constant and eternal, but it was still fundamentally different from the impact of the physical connection and release of contact with another human being. Particularly when you... didn't hate that other human being.

Smoker felt all resistance and restraint collapse like a sandcastle under the incoming tide, washed away smoothly by the leftover dragonlust and Seigith's exultant joy and _Ace_ , Ace, the person that kept his days from running totally smoothly, no matter how hard Smoker tried for routine, who provoked and teased and aggravated and...

Ace returned the force of Smoker's dragonlust-fuelled kissing with equal enthusiasm. Smoker moved to mouth at Ace's neck, then his shoulder, biting down as he sank one hand into Ace's never-tidy, raggedly-cut hair.

Ace made an encouraging noise, and shifted and shoved against him. He finally braced his feet, driving Smoker slightly backwards, a little farther inside, and Smoker had to grunt a laugh at the eagerness. Not the slightest sign of hesitation now. This was the Ace he had expected all this time: enthusiastic and radiating gleeful lust. It was a welcome return to normal after having seen that uncertain worry.

His hand shifted up the back of Ace's head, and his fingertips bumped at that damned hat. He reached up farther and grabbed the brim, removing it from Ace's head. He pulled back, his other hand pushed half under the waist of Ace's heavy shorts, and regarded the offending piece of headwear.

"Yeah, I know, s'not regulation," Ace said distractedly, hands sliding along Smoker's belt to fumble at the buckle.

Smoker batted him away and disengaged fully to turn and walk farther into his weyr. He looked back and waved the hat at Ace, who was staring after him, flushed and mussed and almost visibly sparking with eagerness. "You're wearing too much, brat."

He strode quickly on, dropping the hat on a side table in the main area as he passed through it on the way to the bedroom.

He stripped his own shirt off halfway, and had reached the foot of his bed before the shirt was removed the rest of the way for him.

Still holding onto it, Ace came around in front of him before he could sit, and stared a moment, looking him up and down in a raking, hungry gaze.

The flare of lust in his eyes made Smoker step up against him, though before he could push him down onto the bed, Ace sat with a thump, staring up, eyes wide and mouth open and grinning and eager, like a kid with a present, and those hands were on his belt again. It was quickly undone and off, the buckle making a metallic thunk as it landed on the floor, and then Ace's thumbs pressed lines of delicious pressure through cloth, up the length of Smoker's erection.

Smoker exhaled and let his head fall back, eyes closing. Ridiculous to react so much to what was, in the overall scheme, such tame contact. But how long had it been since he'd done anything without the full-on lust of a winning mating flight and near-violent mindless lust? No choice to abandon all responsibilities then, because it was for a cause. It was for Hina and Orith and the Weyr, or it was for Seigith's benefit. Dragonlust was not for his indulgence. What _was_ his was duty and attention and work and--Ace palmed him with a heavy hand. Smoker reached blindly and found Ace's shoulders, solid and warm.

 _The duty is yours, but not yours alone,_ Seigith whispered to him. _You have people who carry it too, and you can put it down sometimes. The Weyr will go on without you for a little while. You can have more than just yourself for this._

Ace unbuttoned Smoker's trousers and shoved them aside, reaching in without hesitation to wrap a hot, sweat-damp hand around his length, and Smoker wanted to open his eyes, look down, but he was so taken with the shifting pressure that he was voracious for every detail of the sensation. He couldn’t let vision distract him.

He tightened his hands on Ace's shoulders, gripping, anticipating, and he heard the groan he made like it was not his own when Ace flattened his free hand on Smoker's stomach, sliding his palm up as his hot, wet mouth slid down, over the head of Smoker's cock, tongue soft while he took him in, slick and giving and Smoker tightened his grip, trying and only mostly succeeding in holding himself back from fucking that welcoming mouth.

The hand on his stomach let Ace anticipate and move to accommodate the jerky thrusting. Ace didn't pull off or even let up, nor push at Smoker to slow him down, and that only made it harder to rein himself in.

Firming up and pressing just under the head, Ace's agile tongue made arousal rush through him almost like he really was in full-on flight-winning lust, and Smoker moved his hands up to Ace's head, working through his hair, reaching down to slide over nape and shoulders, all he could touch, and, oh fuck, this was too good, it had been too long, and he just wanted to—"enough," he ground out, forcing his eyes open and tugging roughly at Ace's hair.

Ace only made a laughing sound at him, mouth still quite full, so Smoker tucked a hand under his jaw to lift him away. Ace moved back then, though with evident reluctance, wiping a corner of his mouth with the back of his wrist. He smiled up at Smoker through half-lidded and very contented eyes.

Smug, too. "Too much for you, old man?"

Smoker snorted and pushed Ace back on the bed hard enough that he bounced a little as he thumped onto his back. His skin, tanned and traced with scars from his life on the seas, stood out against the grey, standard-issue Weyr blanket. It was an old one, thinned from years of use, patched in places but still serviceable, and--Smoker would never say it aloud, but it was true--comfortable. Ace shifted on it, stretching with his arms overhead as Smoker bent to undo the belt that held up his heavy shorts.

Even after two years of Weyr life, Ace still often dressed like he had when he'd arrived, and just now Smoker didn't pretend, even to himself, that he didn't appreciate it. The fewer clothes to get rid of, the better. One hand took care of the laces on one boot, and he switched hands to do the same to the other while he kept working at the belt and buttons and shoved down his own pants. The heavy-duty footwear thunked to the floor and Smoker could finally yank those shorts away. And there was Portgas D. Ace, naked and grinning, and reaching for him.

He leaned down into those strong arms and pressed Ace into the bed for a few moments, fitting himself over Ace's shape, and taking advantage of his bulkier build to cover every inch of him, to get skin on skin everywhere he could. He braced himself on one arm so he could shove at Ace with the other, shifting him until their cocks were length to length. Ace made a laughing groan and arched up under him.

Sliding his arm under the small of Ace's back, he rolled them over. Ace straddled his hips and grinned down as he settled himself, both his hands curling around their cocks, pulling slow and firm.

Smoker ran his hands down Ace's sides, coming to rest on his hips and he slid his palms up and down over the muscle of thighs and ass. He kneaded gently, all his lust coasting on a momentary calm plateau, like flying when Seigith's wings were held still, and they were just sliding along a smooth wind over the waves.

"You look happy," Ace said in a quiet, surprised voice, and Smoker met his too-sharp eyes with automatic defensiveness.

"So?" he replied shortly, but he couldn't muster any real annoyance.

"It's really something, that's all." Ace leaned down and kissed him again, slow but hungry, keeping one hand cupped over their erections and moving his hips, which Smoker immediately urged along, settling his hands to grip at Ace's ass and add some very welcome pressure.

Ace arched and moved with Smoker's grip, and Smoker stared up, the dragging friction now the center of his awareness but plenty left to take in Ace as he rolled his head, muscles in his shoulders and arms flexing as he moved.

He looked... by the First Egg, it didn't make sense anymore. How had he lasted all this time without hauling the brat into the nearest storeroom or closet?

Then Ace's head lowered; he leaned down, face pressing into Smoker's neck, and he was nudging at him, burrowing down, mouthing at his neck and shoulder, warm breath heating the area and stroking over his skin. Smoker drew a hand up over the line of his back, flat palm following the curve of it.

" _You_ happy now, sailor boy?" Smoker muttered into his ear, and Ace hummed against his neck, the broad smile completely audible. Smoker brought a hand up to his mouth and slipped a finger in. Saliva was all he had, and it didn't allow much, but it'd do for what he wanted.

Reaching back down, he pressed both between the cheeks of Ace's ass, and Ace, unashamed, shifted on his knees to spread his legs farther apart. But he also reached back to grab loosely at Smoker's wrist. "Been about two years, Captain. Nothing but my own hands."

"I know," Smoker replied. Not a day since Ace had Impressed had gone by without Smoker being made aware of just where Ace lived now. Ace released his wrist and squeezed Smoker's cock.

"Not like your ego needs the boost, but you're enough to make me want some good proper slick."

"None here," Smoker said simply. He had always avoided the temptation of it, preferring to save his energy for more important things. He did regret the lack just now, though, but he'd make do. He pushed a finger in, slow and firm. "Won't do anything to need it," he said with a dismissive shrug, and curled his finger. Ace huffed once, pushed back, and then Smoker allowed himself a satisfied smirk.

Smoker shifted his grip between them until he held only Ace's cock. His palm was slick with precome and Ace's foreskin slid wonderfully under his hand. Between that and the slow pressing of his finger, Ace's eyes went half-lidded, his grin fading to a slack mouth of purer lust as he rocked and squirmed and tried to find the right rhythm, and for a few long moments Smoker was treated to Ace all undone in his hands, breathing hard enough that he was nearly groaning with each breath. Smoker swallowed, mouth dry, gaze fixed. Just a little longer, surely, and he would have brought this magnificent vision to completion.

Then Ace stopped moving. It was with evident effort, but he stilled himself and put a hand on Smoker's wrist. He gave himself a shake, eyes focusing again to pin Smoker. He sighed, sounding oddly fond, and shook his head slowly. "A dragon, a mating flight and me right here, even all that and you're still..." He laughed, but Smoker was too aroused to bristle now. He drew another smooth stroke up Ace's cock, despite the grip on his wrist, observing the results in Ace's face--the widening eyes, the quick hitch of breath.

"What are you complaining about, Portgas?"

"Your thick head, old man," Ace leaned down to kiss him, and it was somehow more affectionate than lustful, Ace's smile still on when he pulled away. "But you know, aboard ship, one learns to be prepared." He pulled free of Smoker's hands, sliding to the side of the bed to retrieve his shorts. “Brought this along, just in case.” He stuck his hand into the pouch that was always strapped to one trouser leg. "Though it's a sad state of affairs when you haven't got any to yourself."

Smoker didn't respond to that. His reasons were his own.

Had been. He felt they just might be altered after today.

"Give it here, brat." He took the offered jar, removing the lid and helping himself to some of the contents. He raised an eyebrow, because now the possibilities had increased. "You or me?" he asked.

Ace's flare of surprise and pure lust at those words was gratifying. "Now?" Ace said. "You."

"And next time?" Smoker asked, returning his slicked fingers behind Ace, sliding two at once into tightness that felt so much better already, even to just his fingers. Ace exhaled sharply at the intrusion. Smoker ran heavy fingertips down Ace's length as he once again crooked his fingers.

"Next time," Ace repeated, and his smile turned briefly radiant before resettling back to hungry lust, "I could certainly--" he shoved back on Smoker's fingers, "oblige, it would be--" again, "my pleasure."

Smoker suspected Ace hadn't anticipated he would be offered the choice--that hadn't deterred him at all, not for all this time, but apparently he was good for either option.

And in this occasion of self-indulgence, Smoker felt himself looking forward to that with a deep curl of arousal that settled in the back of his mind with the promise to return and remind him later.

For now, though... He kept working his fingers, and Ace grinned and writhed and groaned and Smoker felt the tightness Ace had cautioned him about relaxing. And Smoker's desire, the pressure under his skin, grew with every push of his fingers into the slick, yielding heat.

He was so grateful for that little jar now, his cock aching to bury itself, and he didn't shove the need away, feeling a brief scatter of apprehension as he let it overtake him instead. And he felt an unlocking somewhere inside him, something tightly bound coming free. He wanted this sailor brat, wanted to touch him and fuck him and feel those strong agile hands anywhere they could go, wanted to see that sweat-sheened face go dark with lust again.

He pulled his fingers out, reaching for more of the slick while Ace sighed and rose to kneel up, presenting Smoker with such a view, as he coated himself, that he pushed himself up on his other elbow just to get closer. Ace was leaning just slightly back, presenting the expanse of him, from the hair sticking to his damp forehead, past his sharp, gleeful eyes, down the chest and stomach, taut with muscle, to where Smoker's eyes stopped. Right where he was totally certain Ace wanted them to. Where Ace's hand loosely cupped his own erect cock, his thumb stroking idly down his length, fingers curling under his balls, and Smoker didn't even try to look away.

He smoothed his palm down himself a last time, then reached up for Ace's hip. "Think you can take it now, brat?" Smoker asked.

"Your ego," Ace laughed. "Let's find out." Ace shifted forward, planted a hand on Smoker's chest to support himself, and reached behind as he lowered himself. Smoker lay back again, his other hand matched the first on Ace's other hip while he felt fingers guiding the tip of his cock between firm cheeks to press against Ace's hole. Ace didn't pause or even slow, just sank down over the head before he stopped. Smoker bit back his groan at the tightness.

Ace was frowning, mouth grimacing and he pulled in a breath, and Smoker frowned too, tightening his hands against movement when he felt Ace start to lower himself further. Gasping a laugh and panting a little, Ace shook his head and opened his eyes. "It's fine," he smiled, "Nnh, fuckin' way past fine, my Captain," he said, and Smoker let him move, watching and feeling Ace sink the rest of the way down, tightness that gave way to soft, giving warmth. Ace shifted, pressing both hands flat on Smoker's chest to resettle himself.

His eyes were closed, cheeks flushed darkest under his freckles, tip of his tongue caught between his teeth as he found the angle he wanted. Smoker shifted his hands to help him move, squeezing firm muscle, offering a little support as he freely indulged himself in the grip.

"Hah," Ace panted, then pushed himself up and sank down again, and made a low noise in the back of his throat. He'd found his angle.

And then he moved, and Smoker held onto his hips, but ended up following more than aiding the rhythm, because Ace riding him was a confident, wanton and totally fucking gorgeous spectacle. Smoker fought the urge to close his eyes and revel in the tight heat sliding over his cock, torn between the hard center of his lust and the vision that was fueling it.

Ace muttered incomprehensible sounds while he moved, half-formed encouragement and curses, and laughing grins that all finally vanished into open-mouthed, intent arousal.

Smoker couldn't fathom how he'd ever look at Ace again without seeing this, without seeing him lost in lust, rocking above him, one hand wrapped around his own cock, skin glistening in the low light. He saw the moment Ace dropped past the point of no return, felt the movement of the hips under his hands turning rough, and Smoker tightened his grip, pulling him down hard with each stroke.

One final pull had Ace curling forward over his hands with a long, chest-deep moan, and Smoker lost sight of his face just as his brows pulled together, the sight obscured by the mess of his hair. Come was sliding between his fingers when Smoker looked lower, the warmth pooling on Smoker's lower belly.

"Hah... fuck," Ace swore, panting, and he looked up, his half-lidded grin apologetic and chagrined at once. "Couldn't wait, couldn't..."

"Lasted longer than I expected," Smoker said, and shoved himself into a sitting position, locking an arm around Ace's waist. "Figured you'd just go off like some kid," he said, and mouthed at Ace's neck. He earned a nip on the ear for his teasing, and come-slippery hands wiping themselves off on his stomach.

"Wanted you to be the one going off, Captain," Ace said, and slid back to kiss him, slow and easy, post-orgasmic lassitude turning it into relaxed and indulgent motion. His hands traveled with a similar slow, stroking exploration.

"Thought you could manage that, did you?" Smoker asked. He turned them, an awkward movement, but it served his purpose, to drop Ace onto his back where he could lie with his head on a pillow. Smiling, Ace slung an arm over Smoker's neck, pulling him in, his other hand running down Smoker's side.

"Yeah," Ace rolled his hips up, pulling his knees back and knocking his heels against Smoker's hips. "Still do. Gonna tell me you changed your mind?"

Smoker responded with a wordless growl and a long, hard thrust. Ace's grin was gloating, and Smoker acknowledged his right to that expression. Barely. In the part of his mind not totally focused on the feel of Ace's ass around his cock as he slid back out to thrust again.

Ace moved both hands to hold onto Smoker's shoulders, and Smoker put his head down, bracing against the pillow right beside Ace's head. He planted one hand at the small of Ace's back to lift him, just a bit more, so _there_ , yes, deep as he could go. He let go of everything but what he wanted, released all grip on order and restraint and reasons why not.

Hard and long and deep and now there was nothing making him do this but that he had chosen to, and Ace was talking again, thrust-jolted words of base appreciation and goading, right in his ear, the current of it sliding into the accelerating pressure of his need until it was all pounding motion and slick heat and Ace's voice, and Smoker came.

It pushed through him so hard it almost hurt, ecstasy that was purely his own, and the strength of it was beyond anything that he'd felt in years outside a mating flight. Except it was all his, not dragged out of him by Seigith's all-consuming procreative instincts, it was Smoker's own release, sought after himself, with someone he'd chosen.

He was buried to the hilt, mouth on Ace's neck, and Ace's fingers were stroking over his shoulders as the final shudders of orgasm wore away. Ace rubbed his face in Smoker's hair, and Smoker rested over him, letting his weight drop onto him as he had at the start.

"I got you, Captain," Ace said.

***

It was warm when Smoker woke up, and he drifted a moment until a movement next to him and a slight dip of the mattress reminded him what had happened, and who was sharing the bed with him. He stayed still even then, taking in the warmth and the quiet and the relaxation--it was uncanny how serene he felt. Seigith was asleep too, or Smoker was certain the bronze would have been gloating already; Smoker had taken someone to bed, and the Weyr wasn't crumbling around their ears.

He opened his eyes partway. The room was near-pitch dark, the nearly-covered glowbasket offering just enough light to navigate by. No more light from outside. It had to be late. Or early.

The weight next to him shifted again. A light waft of cooler air from above the blankets drifted in as Ace lifted them, and Smoker felt a pang of unexpected disappointment. It seemed Ace was making his escape now. Smoker didn't move at all, refusing to make a fuss about it, and sternly banished his unhappiness. He closed his eyes, making sure Ace would still think he was asleep if he happened to look over once his eyes had adjusted.

But Ace didn't leave the bed. The blankets resettled and the mattress dipped again. Smoker felt a bare knee brush his arm. All Ace had done was sit up.

"My Captain," Ace said in a near-whisper, his tone too quiet to have woken him, had he been asleep. "You said there would be a next time, y'know. I'll hold you to that. Will you smile again, too?" Fingers brushed Smoker's hair, stroked for a moment against his forehead, then were snatched back. "Well," Ace's low murmur was wistful, "I don't want to overstay my welcome."

Smoker couldn't reply to Ace's strangely gentle words, he didn't know how to, what to say, what, even, to really make of them. Except that maybe it was time to accept, after all this pushing from Ace and shoving back from him, that this thing wasn't the teasing game Smoker had always made himself believe Ace was playing. He'd never doubted Ace wanted to get into his bed--he'd never ever let himself imagine that Ace actually...

Well, Ace thought he was asleep. That solved any need on his part to answer. Smoker didn't have to say anything fancy to make him stay.

He simply rolled over towards him, fetching up against his knee. He let out an annoyed grunt. "Ace," he grumbled, "lie down." He opened his eyes and shifted his head just enough to stare up at Ace's face with a tired frown. Ace's features were mostly indistinct in the dark, except for the shine of his widened eyes and the air of having been caught. Well, Smoker had overheard it all, but he wasn't going to let on.

There was moment or two of silence, and Smoker felt some of the unspoken threads of emotion woven between them pull at him. Then Ace chuckled and grinned, cockiness back in full force.

"Want to go again, Captain?" he slid back down under the covers, eyes glinting.

"Just go to sleep, Portgas," Smoker growled. "There's 'Fall tomorrow." Ace turned on his side to face away from Smoker, and, without hesitation, shifted snugly back against his chest, wiggling his ass shamelessly.

Smoker slung an arm over him outside the covers, clamping down briefly, ostensibly to stop the wriggling, but he didn't pull it back or change positions when Ace settled down with a happy-sounding sigh. After a few more shifts from each of them to get comfortable, Smoker felt Ace drop off with the same near-instant speed Smoker had seen him manage in weyrling classes or during mealtimes, going from awake to lightly snoring within seconds. Smoker lay a while longer, sleepy but suddenly feeling the urgent need to lie here and just... experience this. Enjoy it, if he was to be truthful. And it was safe to be honest to himself, here and now.

He'd wanted this before, as much as he'd wanted any of it—to give in to pleasuring himself, to take Tashigi or Hina up on their repeatedly offered company after a lost mating flight. He cared for both of them deeply, certainly had no complaints whenever Seigith flew Orith or, as had happened a time or two, Shigureth. He appreciated that they cared for him enough to do that, and he didn't doubt it would have been good, could have been, if he wasn't... well, himself. His driving force was his need to improve the Weyr, and everything else was just best left aside. Those two... as much as he loved them, they had always been part of that, and perhaps that was why he had set them outside the limits, despite their being closest to being inside those iron-bound walls.

Then Ace had come sailing over and yanked Smoker outside his own barriers, goading him and taunting, and even after Merath's hatching, Ace had been in his own category, flaunting his body and ridiculous hat and his odd mix of fine manners for most people and complete disregard of propriety especially for Smoker. All things that Smoker knew he would miss, if they were absent.

And maybe it was, maybe it really was alright for Smoker to be selfish enough now and then to look up from his work and reach for something he wanted.


End file.
